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The following was posted as an open letter on social media on Tuesday, September 30, 2025, as the Global Sumud Flotilla passed into "high-risk" eastern waters of the Mediterranean Sea, closer to the besieged Gaza Strip which remains under a humanitarian blockade and military bombarment by the Israeli govenment.
Today, I am writing a very personal letter to you all — a letter about what it means to me to be Jewish on a mission that is set to arrive to the “Red Zone” during Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar.
I almost never write “as a Jew.” I share the exhaustion of being forced to put Jewish feelings first—when a genocide has been committed in the name of Zionist “national interest,” and when activists have been detained, tortured, and deported in the name of our “safety.”
But today I felt compelled to write in that register—as one of the only Jews on this mission, which brings together over 500 people from more than 40 countries across the world.
If there’s any part of the Torah that I still remember, it is this obligation it bestows upon us: "Justice, justice you shall pursue." How could we stand by while the State of Israel perverts this holy obligation, overseeing a holocaust of the Palestinian people?
I believe that the timing of our flotilla is not coincidental. On the contrary, I believe it is a blessing that we are approaching interception at the onset of Yom Kippur—our annual day of atonement—which calls on us to reflect on our sins, and what can be done to repair them in the spirit of tikkun olam.
How can we atone for what has been committed in our name? How can we seek forgiveness for sins that multiply by the hour, as bombs and bullets rain on Gaza? How could we possibly take seriously our mandate to “heal the world” when the State of Israel is so determined to destroy it?
If there’s any part of the Torah that I still remember, it is this obligation it bestows upon us: "Justice, justice you shall pursue." How could we stand by while the State of Israel perverts this holy obligation, overseeing a holocaust of the Palestinian people?
I joined this flotilla just like any other delegate—to defend humanity, before it is too late. But on Yom Kippur, I am reminded that I am also here because my Jewish heritage demands it.
As a mere adolescent, my grandfather Jacques Adler (pictured) joined the Parisian resistance against the Nazis, putting his life on the line to sabotage their operations even as his friends and family were sent to their deaths in concentration camps.
I joined this flotilla just like any other delegate—to defend humanity, before it is too late. But on Yom Kippur, I am reminded that I am also here because my Jewish heritage demands it.
That is the tradition to which I am called, and the definition of “justice” that feels true to my Jewish identity—as the same genocidal rage that targeted my ancestors is now taken up by its principal victims.
The author's grandfather, Jacques Adler. (Photo: Courtesy of David Adler)
Yom Kippur is a day of fasting, a way to manifest our atonement in physical form. But for the last two years, the starving people of Gaza have had no choice but to forgo their daily bread.
If Israeli forces intercept us on Yom Kippur, then let them see what true atonement looks like. Not fasting in comfort while starving their neighbors. Not praying in safety while dropping bombs over their heads. Atonement means action.
So as the sun sets tonight, and the fasting begins, I hope that fellow Jews will join me in redefining their approach to atonement — together with silent prayer, and toward courageous action to put an end to this horrific genocide.
G'mar chatima tova.
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The following was posted as an open letter on social media on Tuesday, September 30, 2025, as the Global Sumud Flotilla passed into "high-risk" eastern waters of the Mediterranean Sea, closer to the besieged Gaza Strip which remains under a humanitarian blockade and military bombarment by the Israeli govenment.
Today, I am writing a very personal letter to you all — a letter about what it means to me to be Jewish on a mission that is set to arrive to the “Red Zone” during Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar.
I almost never write “as a Jew.” I share the exhaustion of being forced to put Jewish feelings first—when a genocide has been committed in the name of Zionist “national interest,” and when activists have been detained, tortured, and deported in the name of our “safety.”
But today I felt compelled to write in that register—as one of the only Jews on this mission, which brings together over 500 people from more than 40 countries across the world.
If there’s any part of the Torah that I still remember, it is this obligation it bestows upon us: "Justice, justice you shall pursue." How could we stand by while the State of Israel perverts this holy obligation, overseeing a holocaust of the Palestinian people?
I believe that the timing of our flotilla is not coincidental. On the contrary, I believe it is a blessing that we are approaching interception at the onset of Yom Kippur—our annual day of atonement—which calls on us to reflect on our sins, and what can be done to repair them in the spirit of tikkun olam.
How can we atone for what has been committed in our name? How can we seek forgiveness for sins that multiply by the hour, as bombs and bullets rain on Gaza? How could we possibly take seriously our mandate to “heal the world” when the State of Israel is so determined to destroy it?
If there’s any part of the Torah that I still remember, it is this obligation it bestows upon us: "Justice, justice you shall pursue." How could we stand by while the State of Israel perverts this holy obligation, overseeing a holocaust of the Palestinian people?
I joined this flotilla just like any other delegate—to defend humanity, before it is too late. But on Yom Kippur, I am reminded that I am also here because my Jewish heritage demands it.
As a mere adolescent, my grandfather Jacques Adler (pictured) joined the Parisian resistance against the Nazis, putting his life on the line to sabotage their operations even as his friends and family were sent to their deaths in concentration camps.
I joined this flotilla just like any other delegate—to defend humanity, before it is too late. But on Yom Kippur, I am reminded that I am also here because my Jewish heritage demands it.
That is the tradition to which I am called, and the definition of “justice” that feels true to my Jewish identity—as the same genocidal rage that targeted my ancestors is now taken up by its principal victims.
The author's grandfather, Jacques Adler. (Photo: Courtesy of David Adler)
Yom Kippur is a day of fasting, a way to manifest our atonement in physical form. But for the last two years, the starving people of Gaza have had no choice but to forgo their daily bread.
If Israeli forces intercept us on Yom Kippur, then let them see what true atonement looks like. Not fasting in comfort while starving their neighbors. Not praying in safety while dropping bombs over their heads. Atonement means action.
So as the sun sets tonight, and the fasting begins, I hope that fellow Jews will join me in redefining their approach to atonement — together with silent prayer, and toward courageous action to put an end to this horrific genocide.
G'mar chatima tova.
The following was posted as an open letter on social media on Tuesday, September 30, 2025, as the Global Sumud Flotilla passed into "high-risk" eastern waters of the Mediterranean Sea, closer to the besieged Gaza Strip which remains under a humanitarian blockade and military bombarment by the Israeli govenment.
Today, I am writing a very personal letter to you all — a letter about what it means to me to be Jewish on a mission that is set to arrive to the “Red Zone” during Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar.
I almost never write “as a Jew.” I share the exhaustion of being forced to put Jewish feelings first—when a genocide has been committed in the name of Zionist “national interest,” and when activists have been detained, tortured, and deported in the name of our “safety.”
But today I felt compelled to write in that register—as one of the only Jews on this mission, which brings together over 500 people from more than 40 countries across the world.
If there’s any part of the Torah that I still remember, it is this obligation it bestows upon us: "Justice, justice you shall pursue." How could we stand by while the State of Israel perverts this holy obligation, overseeing a holocaust of the Palestinian people?
I believe that the timing of our flotilla is not coincidental. On the contrary, I believe it is a blessing that we are approaching interception at the onset of Yom Kippur—our annual day of atonement—which calls on us to reflect on our sins, and what can be done to repair them in the spirit of tikkun olam.
How can we atone for what has been committed in our name? How can we seek forgiveness for sins that multiply by the hour, as bombs and bullets rain on Gaza? How could we possibly take seriously our mandate to “heal the world” when the State of Israel is so determined to destroy it?
If there’s any part of the Torah that I still remember, it is this obligation it bestows upon us: "Justice, justice you shall pursue." How could we stand by while the State of Israel perverts this holy obligation, overseeing a holocaust of the Palestinian people?
I joined this flotilla just like any other delegate—to defend humanity, before it is too late. But on Yom Kippur, I am reminded that I am also here because my Jewish heritage demands it.
As a mere adolescent, my grandfather Jacques Adler (pictured) joined the Parisian resistance against the Nazis, putting his life on the line to sabotage their operations even as his friends and family were sent to their deaths in concentration camps.
I joined this flotilla just like any other delegate—to defend humanity, before it is too late. But on Yom Kippur, I am reminded that I am also here because my Jewish heritage demands it.
That is the tradition to which I am called, and the definition of “justice” that feels true to my Jewish identity—as the same genocidal rage that targeted my ancestors is now taken up by its principal victims.
The author's grandfather, Jacques Adler. (Photo: Courtesy of David Adler)
Yom Kippur is a day of fasting, a way to manifest our atonement in physical form. But for the last two years, the starving people of Gaza have had no choice but to forgo their daily bread.
If Israeli forces intercept us on Yom Kippur, then let them see what true atonement looks like. Not fasting in comfort while starving their neighbors. Not praying in safety while dropping bombs over their heads. Atonement means action.
So as the sun sets tonight, and the fasting begins, I hope that fellow Jews will join me in redefining their approach to atonement — together with silent prayer, and toward courageous action to put an end to this horrific genocide.
G'mar chatima tova.